


It's Us or the Universe

by CheerfullyCynical



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Again, Angst, F/M, Hurt small comfort, Mental Health Check, Other, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, The Doctor is desperate for it to all end after the fam is killed, also, drug overdose, in his messed up way, is there for her, major angst, seriously please be careful, the Master - Freeform, the Master and the Doctor were married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheerfullyCynical/pseuds/CheerfullyCynical
Summary: She should be feeling something. Relief, fury… To at least put her guard up, seeing as her enemy had basically caught her at her most vulnerable. Instead, the only thing she could do was hold in tears that she could not explain.“It used to be enough,” She whispered to him after a while, “Living, it used to be enough.”MIND THE TAGS!
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	It's Us or the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE, PLEASE mind the tags! The Doctor is dealing with a lot here, and while she herself decides that she deserves to live, she gets very close to ending it.

It had never been this bad.

The sadness, the loneliness, the _grief…_ I had never felt so all-consuming, even when she felt the guilt of billions of children’s death on her hands. No, this feeling was worse, deep and dark in her chest, enough to leave her breathless. Enough to think that her years in the Jodoon prison cell were not long enough.

Her fam was killed only two weeks ago, helping her escape, and all that survived were two immortals that couldn’t die. Jack had left her after she screamed at him that it was his fault. She knew, intimately, that it wasn’t, that it was her fault, but she just wanted him to leave her alone.

She wanted to be numb. She was against a blank room in her TARDIS, staring at nothing – trying to ignore the world and its needs. She felt lifeless and weak as she once again put her forehead against her knees, arms wrapped around her legs.

She wondered, too suddenly, how hard it would be to stop a regeneration. Her twelfth… Of thousands… Regenerations had been so close to closing her life’s last chapter. What was stopping her?

The thought, so tempting, had her pushing her nails into the muscle of her leg, prickling her. The pain was sharp and so suddenly _not enough._ She needed… She needed to feel – to be anything other than _this._ This mindless being, clawing at her heart and drowning her lungs.

Tears were not in her eyes as she raked her nails down her calf, bringing pain, yet she wanted them to be. Odd, when only hours ago she couldn’t stop crying and would have done anything to make them stop.

Feeling dizzy, she lifted herself off the ground, her back rock solid against the wall, pushing her coat up awkwardly to the middle of her neck. In a haze, she pulled it off of her, tossing it to the corner of the room. It took far to long for it to fall to the floor. By the time she registered she was standing, she was already out the door.

The TARDIS hallway swam in her vision, lights dancing across her eyes as the TARDIS tried to take her somewhere else, but the Doctor knew every twist and turn of her home. Even without the hallway lights, she found herself at her almost never used bedroom door.

The doorknob was hot – burning hot.

She hissed, flinging her head away, anger rising within in. “That won’t stop me!” She called to her meddlesome TARDIS, “You have no right!”

She didn’t know what other person in the universe had a right besides her TARDIS. Well, maybe she did, but all of them were dead now… Somewhere she didn’t know if she could follow.

She grabbed the doorknob with both hands, hardly caring that it seared her skin. It opened like a gun shot, quick and loud, and then she was through, staring at the familiar four walls with utter hatred.

So many memories were kept here. Secrets hidden within drawers upon draws – smiles and tears all wrapped up in bows. Trinkets, too, that had her tripping on her own feet to get to. She tightly clenched her wedding ring, etched with old Gallifreyan, pristine and perfect simply because she didn’t dare wear it anymore.

River Song was dead – another chapter of the Doctor’s life painfully closed.

She pressed the cool metal to her lips, eyes closing, imagining River’s wicked smile. _“The big, bad Doctor,”_ Her voice whispered into her ear, “ _Come to take me on another adventure.”_

“Always.” She said, but her voice echoed painfully in her old room. The Doctor’s promises meant nothing. Although she was angry, she didn’t dare toss such a precious item. Instead, shaking hands placed it back in its proper resting place, the blue proposal box only bringing more bitterness.

Another failed promise came to mind.

Her eyes skimmed past the rows of photographs – old companions and friends – and to the place covered in dust. Even the TARDIS didn’t dare touch that corner of her room. She stared at the dimly lit spot, seeping with resentment and love, and felt disgusted with herself that she hadn’t even had the strength to keep the area clean.

The Doctor stumbled towards the end of the dresser, two hands landing on the very old bit of red cloth. Its golden swirls of Gallifreyan mocked her as she took it off the stand, making her breathless as she held it in both her hands – its velvet tickled her burned palms, and embroidery pricked her skin.

Delicately, she glided her hands across it, relieving the dust, but it only made it sink into the fabric. Lips in a thin line, she then looked at the other end of it, recognizing where the fabric was cut, then, poorly, hemmed. 

She wondered if the Master kept the other end of it, then felt disgusted that she thought he even cared.

Disgusted that she still hoped he was alive.

Because, if he wasn’t alive…

The indescribable wave, the one that pushed weight against her chest, stealing the air from her lungs, returned with a vengeance. The task she had come to do, so violent with need, consumed her. With her old friend’s wedding vow clutched in her fist, she moved over to the bottle located on her dresser.

The only thing she knew that could kill a Time Lord without physical harm.

She had put it there ages ago, regenerations ago, when she wanted to research what exactly caused such a violent reaction, especially since it could be used against her at one point. It was supposed to be a puzzle to figure out, but when she regenerated, they had no interest in Time Lord biology.

Now… Now the human bottle of Advil was going to be more helpful than ever before.

It was with distant ears that she heard the breaks of her TARDIS. She wondered why for a moment, then assumed it was the old girl trying to get her stop. After all, that sound had always calmed her. Now, though, it just reminded her of adventures she dared not go on.

With both items clutched in her hand, she sunk to the ground, her back hitting the side of her unused bed. With her hearts pounding, she once again looked at the red fabric, etched with promises of love and eternity, and felt sick. Nothing but her would go on forever.

She needed to make it stop.

She stared at the sacred item once more, bringing it to her face, letting its smell consume her. If she let herself sink far enough, she could smell him – see his smile and feel his arms around her, care free and _so young,_ and she wanted that more than she wanted anything else in her life.

Is that why the Division erased her memory with every regeneration? Was it because, after they took everything away from her, she couldn’t handle the pain?

If she couldn’t erase her memories, then she would erase her next timeline.

She finally let the cloth go, not even watching as it spilled onto her lap. Instead, she opened the pill bottle, pouring just four into her hand – she didn’t need much to stop her hearts.

“Please,” She said to no one, staring at her galaxy painted ceiling, “Let me see them again – just for a moment.”

There were no tears left. She swung her head back, eyes shut tight, breathing heavily. _Do it_ a dark part of her whispered, _there’s no one in this universe that loves you, no one you can find that could ever understand. There’s nothing but pain, and death, and_ you.

“I killed them,” She admitted to the voice, “My fam. I killed them – I got them killed.”

_Then return the favor._

No, no, no… Was this how far she had fallen? Defeated by her own self?

That was also her destiny, wasn’t it?

It couldn’t be. Not today. There were so many others before her – so many that lived lives she couldn’t imagine. That fought their way through life, just as she was. Who was she to erase their struggle?

Who was she to let the Division win?

In a fit of pure fury, she flung the pills away from, watching in shock as they bounced against the wall and scattered, flying in every direction. In some sick sense of torture, she felt both proud and appalled that she hadn’t done it. What was she good for?

And then…And then… As hope gave out…

A voice.

The TARDIS had picked up a passenger.

“Alright, you blasted- I’ve got the message, dear, no need to use those damned bright lights. For Rassilon’s-”

There was a pounding in her head – four beats beating, over and over. Time slowed.

The door to her bedroom opened with a bang. The Master’s face, contorted in exasperation and frustration, and then to something she could not put a name too. It was something close to absolute terror. She didn’t dare imagine what she looked right now to him, all red, sunken eyes and _dead,_ and instead felt nothing as he moved into the dark room.

“Go-way,” She managed, “ _Please_.”

Even that sounded weak to her ears.

She should be feeling something. Relief, fury… To at least put her guard up, seeing as her enemy had basically caught her at her most vulnerable. Instead, the only thing she could do was hold in tears that she could not explain.

He walked around the mess she had created, ignoring her plea. She would have thought that he would be overjoyed right now, seeing her so utterly broken, but instead he looked… Stoic, as he approached her.

He eyed the bottle, “Tell me you didn’t-”

“I didn’t,” Then, in realization, “ _I didn’t.”_

He nodded; his relief clear to see. He kneeled to her, nearly sinking into it, making her stare into his eyes by his mere presence. He studied her face, taking note of everything, looking pained. His eyes went down then, to her ripped shirt, then to what was in her lap. His face twisted as he understood what it was.

Fearing the worst, she took the wedding cloth in her hands, even as it stung her, gripping tightly, “ _Don’t.”_

He was silent for a moment too long. For once, he looked speechless. She didn’t care. Instead, she brought it to her chest, keeping it close, scared of his mood swings. She wouldn’t let him take this memory away from her.

The air was tense, “You kept it.”

“Of course I kept it.” She snarled, and then startled at her own tone. She sounded so _angry,_ so like him, back on Gallifrey. Insane, feeling worthless, it was no wonder that he wanted her to end it.

“You kept it.” He repeated in the same empty tone. He looked _lost._

Finally, an emotion made its way through her – concern for her old friend. Not knowing what else to do – not having the energy – she raised her hand to him, slowly leaning towards him. Like taming a lion, she put her hand on his shoulder, offering what little comfort she could.

“You’re here.” She offered, “I thought…”

“No, I escaped,” He answered, still frozen in their moment, too shocked to lie, then to anger, “What the hell are you doing?”

She laughed loudly, insanely, at that – she couldn’t help it. How could she ever explain it to him? Too far gone, she used the leverage she had on him to bring his forehead closer to her, asking without words for what she wanted.

He answered immediately, letting his forehead rest on hers. Their connection, one made billions of years ago, blossomed in her mind – one ball of messy emotions to one bare an empty cavern. Their roles, their feelings, had switched.

In the real world, he let out a puff of air against her nose, revealing just how much her emotions stung. There was no way to describe the mass of hurt she had put on his shoulders – only that she craved his darkness, his twisted passions, more than she wanted her own detachment. She chased after it in his mind, letting them flow over her.

Any emotion was better than the cold she felt.

_“Oh, my beautiful Doctor.”_

That was all it took. She broke their connection without meaning to, tears flowing from her eyes with ugly gasps. The Master didn’t hesitate. He moved, pushing himself against her bed, sitting with her on the floor. In an act too fast to follow, he lifted her over his leg, then let her back lean against his chest.

With a kindness she hadn’t seen in hundreds of years from him, he wrapped his arms around her middle and offered her whatever comfort she needed. He let her put her forehead on her knees, her entire body shaking. The velvet in her hands was still clenched in her fists.

“It used to be enough,” She whispered after a while, “Living, it used to be enough.”

His head had made it to her shoulder, and her entire body weight was against him, the back of her head _just_ against the side of his face, then leaned against his bed. In a tender act, he gave a small kissed to the underside of her jaw. “It will be.”

She had no answer to that. She knew that he never had that sentiment – life by itself was never enough for him. He thrived on the people around him. He had always needed _someone_ to keep him grounded.

Maybe… That was her new way of life too.

What she wouldn’t do to keep this part of their relationship forever.

It took hours for them to move again. The first thing he did was take the incriminating bottle and flush it down her sink. She didn’t dare protest. Instead, her eyes looked away, shame clear to see. That didn’t stop him. He riffled through her belongs, finding an old robe of hers, and handed it to her.

“Shower,” He said, “you’ll feel better.”

Feeling vulnerable, she traded the items. She passed their wedding tie to him, watching as his eyes soften as he touched it. He smiled at her, just the twitch of his lips, and then moved past her, putting it neatly back on its rightful stand. He looked soft under the orange glow of her bedroom, and she felt sentimental as he turned back towards her.

Now that the attack had passed, and that she found herself standing awkwardly in the middle of the room with a robe, she didn’t understand why he was still here.

“I thought it was obvious.” He said, eyes soft, carefully guiding her through the TARDIS hall. She didn’t realize that he kept their connection open.

“It’s not.” She answered and said nothing more. She didn’t have the energy to play through his vast range of emotions.

He grabbed her hand, obviously wanting her to talk properly to him. Instead, she flinched, feeling the pain of her burns now that they were healing slowly. He quickly grew angry, “I’m trying to help-”

“It’s not you,” The Doctor explained, showing her palms. They now had blisters, “the TARDIS burned me.”

“The TARDIS…” He studied the burns, once again pained, “Must have burn gel somewhere on this ship. Take your shower, I’ll find it.”

She nodded, but he didn’t move.

“I kept it,” He said after a moment, “Of course I kept it. Put it in a safe spot, where no one else but you would think to look.”

She tried to smile. It was a happy thing, after all, to learn that somewhere in their history, he still cared for her. She understood him more than he knew, “Thank you.” Was all she could offer him. It seemed like enough. _I love you_ seemed like too much – too raw.

She knew that The Master still hated the Doctor, just as she did.

“Why are you helping me?”

He looked at her, his eyes piercing, “I suppose it’s the same reason the TARDIS brought me to you.”

Because he was her only friend? Because he was her oldest friend? Because he knew her better than anyone? Because her TARDIS didn’t want her to die?

“But _why.”_

Her voice was scarily soft. He would have destroyed her with it before, turned her greatest fears against her. Today, it seemed, he was content with being _them._ She knew that if she had gotten this way back on Gallifrey, he would have reveled in it.

What had changed?

“It’s both of us,” He admitted, that raging fire back in his eyes, “or none of us.”

“No,” she said, hating the very idea of it, horror making her hearts beat, “Master, you can’t mean-”

“The day you no longer walk this universe,” he interrupted, “Is the day the universe will know my name better than yours.”

_How could he ever think such a thing? How could he do such a thing?_

“I won’t let you die for me,” She yelled, furious with him, “I won’t let you _kill_ yourself for me!”

“Oh, love,” He replied, “Don’t be so naïve. I plan to burn enough planets to _be_ killed.”

The same thing he tried on Gallifrey. He really did have a death wish. She felt ill. Then, a terrible thing came to mind.

“I’m going to live forever,” She whispered, “I can’t – I can’t… I didn’t even know if this was going to kill me. I’ll lose you _first_ and-”

He shushed her gently, back to his caring persona in a blink of an eye – back to her childhood hero, “We’ll cross that bridge when it comes. It’ll be alright.”

She felt faint. She watched as he placed a hand around her middle, guiding her through her own TARDIS hallways as if it were his. When they reached her bathroom suite, he stopped her.

“I came to mock you,” He admitted, “The moment I saw your TARDIS doors, I couldn’t wait to see you again, to see how jail and the loss of your pets had broken you.”

She looked away. He would never be the boy she married.

“I _stayed,”_ He said, putting both his hands on her shoulders, “because, Doctor, I have, and always will, love you.”

Her eyes closed. This was too dangerous.

She didn’t care. She knew what she wanted – she needed him more than ever.

“Marry me, Koschei Oakdown."

The Master smiled – truly smiled. “Until the end of the universe, Theta Sigma.”

Until the end of her.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Sad. Writing is usually escapism for me, but getting out these feelings in characters that I relate to (the Doctor, mostly) really helped.
> 
> I hope some enjoyed the angst! Especially after the promo pic we just got.
> 
> If you ever need someone to talk to, want to ran about Doctor Who, or just want a new blog to follow, you can find me at cheerfullycynicalfandom.tumblr.com


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